


Letting Go

by Leonard_Snart_Robber_of_ATMs



Category: The Transformers (IDW Generation One)
Genre: Dirty Talk, Dom/sub, Gags, M/M, Sex Toys, Sticky Sexual Interfacing, Stress Relief
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-05
Updated: 2017-02-05
Packaged: 2018-09-22 05:39:22
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,154
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9585785
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Leonard_Snart_Robber_of_ATMs/pseuds/Leonard_Snart_Robber_of_ATMs
Summary: Ultra Magnus is tired of being in control and just wants to be able to relax... Drift has an unlikely suggestion, and Ultra Magnus never would've expected this from Perceptor.





	

**Author's Note:**

> This is a little fill for the prompt: http://tfanonkink.livejournal.com/13205.html?thread=15918741
> 
> I'm not the best of writers but I hope it's at least acceptable... I'm hoping to update my other stories soon as well.

Ultra Magnus vented heavily as he headed to his office after what should’ve been a quick trip to the brig to deposit an over-charged Skids, but ended up being a very long and tiresome endeavor. Over-charged Skids tended to be loud and had made his displeasure known the entire length of time it took for the two mechs to reach the brig.

 

Scrubbing a servo across his faceplates, Magnus entered his office to sit down heavily behind his desk, staring at the stacks of datapads neatly stacked atop it.

 

Taking a moment to collect himself, Ultra Magnus selected a datapad from the neat pile sitting atop his desk and set neatly to the side to leave room for him to work.

 

Ultra Magnus was weary, but he had to finish the reports now if he wanted to have them completed before the due date. It wouldn’t do if he was late, it would set a bad example to the rest of the ship, specifically Rodimus, the young hot rod would never let him hear the end of it.

 

Venting heavily again, the massive mech pulled his seat a little closer as he lit up the datapad, reading carefully over it  _ twice _ before finally approving it, kliks passing by into joors as he worked away. There was nothing unusual about the Magnus working so late into the night cycle, but he was weary. He had been feeling increasingly exhausted as the megacycle progressed, and Magnus was beginning to wish, in the tiniest corner of his processor, that he could let go of some control.  _ Relax _ . But he had tried! He seemed to be incapable of relaxing without noticing some infraction to the rules and acting upon it.

 

A knock at the door had Magnus straitening up, smoothplates smoothing out into his usual gruff demeanor as he bid his unexpected visitor to enter.

 

“Hey Magnus.” Drift’s smooth tone filled the once-silent room, the ninja stepping into the painfully clean office with a small smile gracing his lip components. “I saw you take Skids down to the brig. Was wondering if you’re alright?”

 

Ultra Magnus was totally taken aback by Drift’s question, but he refused to show his surprise as he set the datapad down on the desk. “I am functioning at optimal conditions.” He responded slowly, looking straight at the other mech. “What would cause you to inquire after my wellbeing?” The blue mech asked, sitting back in his seat a little and relieved to be able to relax a little from his usual stiff upright position.

 

Drift cocked his helm slightly, a thoughtful expression on his faceplates. “You seemed tired. Overly tense?” He offered it as a question, and Ultra Magnus knew that the ex-decepticon was giving him a choice to answer honestly or not.

 

Venting sharply, Magnus shook his helm and leaned all the way back in his seat. “No, Drift.” He responded, keeping his response simple and as professional as he could in admitting that he wasn’t truly feeling good at the moment. Usually he’d be content with dumping intoxicated mecha in the brig and count it as a good cycle’s work.

 

Drift actually looked surprised that Magnus so easily admitted to it, but his expression was cleared within moments, the white mech looking concerned instead. “Do you not feel well, Magnus? A virus perhaps?” He questioned, stepping closer to the desk, close enough that Magnus could hear the steady thrum of the great sword displayed on the ninja bot’s backstrut.

 

“Nothing so dramatic.” Ultra Magnus responded with a heavy vent again, feeling conflicted over how to explain exactly how he felt. “It’s more…  _ Stressed _ . I’m tired of always keeping order, tired of being the only mech aboard that doesn’t break every rule each cycle. I wish that I could… Let go.”

 

Bright blue optics widened as Drift stared at Magnus, getting a different message than that which the blue mech was implying. “Offline? You can’t offline, Magnus! We all need you.”

 

Ultra Magnus grunted and waved a servo at the mech to calm him down. “No, I mean let go of… Control.” He finally admitted, embarrassment creepy into the deep voice as he shifted uneasily. “I’ve never quite felt like this before, but I’ve tried a few times to relax, to give up control. It’s not so easy as it is when I think about it.” The massive mech vented tiredly.

 

Silence fell for a few moments as Drift stared at him in first surprise, then understanding. Giving up control was something he understood! Something he  _ enjoyed _ ! “What have you tried so far?” The white mech asked, taking a seat across the desk of the  _ Lost Light _ ’s lieutenant.

 

Frowning at the obvious excitement on the other mech’s faceplates and pulsing field, Ultra Magnus struggled to come to terms with what he was asking, if only for a brief nano-klik. “Well, I’ve tried to go to Swerve’s.” He responded a little sheepishly, “but it didn’t work out as I had hoped. I’ve tried to read for....” Magnus fought to remember the word now. “ _ Fun _ , but it didn’t help.” The enforcer didn’t bother telling Drift that he had found himself continuously becoming frustrated with all the mistakes and infractions the characters commited.

 

“That’s all?”

 

Ultra Magnus looked up in surprise. What did Drift mean by ‘that’s all’?? “Well, yes… Why?” The big mech questioned in slight confusion, a side of him that most never got the privilege to see, save Rodimus at times, and that was only because of how confusing the mech could be when he truly wanted to be.

 

A wide grin spread over Drift’s faceplates. “If you’re willing, would you try… Anything?” The swordsmecha asked, looking quite eager.

 

Suspicion immediately wormed it’s way into Magnus’ processor, and he frowned deeply at Drift, something he found himself doing more frequently as of late. “What is it you are asking, Drift?” He demanded in a gruf tone.

 

Drift let out a little laugh and shook his helm. “Magnus, I’m  _ all about _ letting go of control. It’s something I know in and out. Sometimes meditation doesn’t help, so I got another way. That is, if you’re willing to try.” He added, not wanting to pressure the bigger mech into doing anything he wouldn’t be comfortable with. “If you don’t like it, I can help you learn meditation?”

 

Intrigued now, Ultra Magnus  _ did _ notice how calm and patient Drift was, though he wasn’t as obsessed with rules as he himself was, he wasn’t a mech like Rodimus that would do anything for fun, even had trouble in loosening up at times. “What did you have in mind?”

 

Drift seemed to light up at the question as he leaned forwards. “Let me introduce you to my favourite dom.” He responded, voice a sultry purr.

 

Magnus’ brows furrowed. What exactly, had he just asked for?

 

=+=+=+=+=+=+=

 

Ultra Magnus stayed as still as possible, barely venting. He was bound, much to tightly to get free, arms behind his backstrut, one bound atop the other, a ring gag between his denta and a blindfold over his optics. Quite honestly, Magnus had never expected something like this from  _ Perceptor _ . Perceptor followed the rules and spent most of his time in the lab. He was quiet, reserved, so the big mech never would’ve thought Perceptor enjoyed dominating submissive partners in such a fashion.

 

Shifting ever so slightly, Ultra Magnus struggled to hear what the smaller mech was doing. Perceptor seemed to be looking for something, if what he was hearing was correct.

 

Turning his attention back onto himself, Magnus tugged at his bonds again. It was disconcerting, being blindfolded and bound on his knees, knees kept apart by some kind of bar between them. Before they had begun, Perceptor had given him a private comm. line so the bigger mech could let him know if he wanted to stop, but Magnus still felt helpless when the scientist uploaded codes that gave full control of his panels to Perceptor.

 

“Mm. Don’t you look good like that?”

 

Ultra Magnus jerked back at the sound of Perceptor’s voice, suddenly so close, a quiet chuckle from the red mech reaching his audios. “Oh no need to be so frightened, pet.” Perceptor’s voice was calm, lightly accented.

 

Forcing himself to relax again, Magnus felt digits glide over his helm, barely there, but enough for him to know Perceptor was touching him. The slim digits traced down the side of his faceplates before gripping his chin, tilting his faceplates up as the blindfold was suddenly removed.

 

Blinking in the dim lighting, Magnus stared up at the mech he was totally helpless too, venting softly, optics slightly wider than normal.

 

Perceptor smiled as he caressed the bigger mech’s faceplates with a soft hum of his engine, thumb digit running over Magnus’ bottom lip component in a teasing way before pushing into the wet warmth.

 

Magnus let out a soft whine as he felt the scientist play with his glossa, pin it down to the bottom of his intake and rub his digit over it. He didn’t fight it, didn’t try to pull away. He was supposed to be obedient. Perceptor made the rules, he was only to follow them. There was a strange kind of relief in that, in letting Perceptor make the decisions, in the fact that he only had to follow orders and the scientist would care for him.

 

“Good mech.” The scientist murmured softly, leaning in to place a soft kiss to the corner of the bound mech’s lips, enjoying the small sound that escaped the enforcer. “Shhh pet.” 

 

Falling silent as Perceptor pulled away, Magnus tracked the smaller mech’s movements until he couldn’t anymore, his proximity sensors relaying that the scientist was now behind him. Regardless, Magnus still jumped with a surprised grunt when his panel commands were overridden, exposing both his valve and spike without his consent.

 

Perceptor hummed as he knelt down behind the bigger mech, a servo reaching around the blue bot to splay across his lower abdominal plating, pausing for only a moment before making their way down to Magnus’ spike housing where the tip was peeking out of it’s housing in the most tantilizing way. “Are you going to come out and play?” Perceptor murmured over Magnus’ shoulder, digits lightly fondling.

 

Staring down at the servo between his legs, Magnus only whined as digits rubbed his spike, coaxing it to fully pressurize before giving it a tight squeeze, the enforcer letting out a cry and jerking into the touch. It felt so good! He had nearly forgotten what it was like to be touched by another!!

 

Magnus leaned forwards as those skilled digits wrapped around his spike, just barely being able to fully encircle his spike, and began to squeeze and stroke, drawing a moan from the bigger mech.

 

“You like that?” Perceptor’s airy tone purred into his audio, Magnus only moaning again as he rocked into the touch with the occasional jerk of his hips. Liquid heat rushed through his lines, his spike throbbed, everything felt so good.

 

At the first touch of cold, Magnus jumped, staring down at his spike as the scientist’s digits slipped a ring over his spike, working it down until it was nestled at the base of it, making Ultra Magnus whimper. Arousal still hummed through his lines, but the ring tight around his spike was strange. Did it vibrate, perhaps?

 

Ultra Magnus let out a helpless moan as Perceptor gave his spike a final squeeze, sliding up it’s throbbing length to wipe the pre-transfluid from the tip before pressing those digits into the blue mech’s intake. “Clean them up.” Perceptor ordered, tone firm as the trembling mech licked and cleaned them up as best he could with the ring gag still in place.

 

After a klik, Perceptor pulled his digits away and slid his sticky servo down Ultra Magnu’s chassis, his abdomen, skirting past his spike to come to a stop at his gentle pulsing anterior node, pressing against it insistening.

 

Desperate now, Magnus whimpered again and pressed down against the digits which moved away, the bigger mech confused as he attempted to look over his shoulder at the scientist, keening helplessly.

 

Perceptor chuckled and nuzzled into the side of his helm. “Hush now.” He murmured in amusement. “Be a good mech and stay still. If you behave, I’ll give you a spike overload.” The scientist purred, slapping Magnus’ spike lightly, the big mech moaning as it bobbed in the cold air. He would’ve begged if he could.

 

Waiting to make sure Ultra Magnus understood, Perceptor smiled to himself and brought his servos back to Magnus’ valve, and, without warning, thrust two up into the blue mech.

 

Magnus let out a choked cry, hips jerking at the sudden intrusion. Although it wasn’t painful, it was still surprising, and he was unable to think as digits were suddenly thrusting into him, twisting, curling and scissoring.

 

Leaning forwards again as his arousal roared to new levels, Magnus moaned and whimpered, helpless in the grip of the ship’s scientist, vents pouring out heat as Perceptor added first a third digit, then another. He was being stretched, spread wider than he had been in millennial, optics bleeding out to pleasured white.

 

“See? It feels so good, doesn’t it?” Perceptor moaned against Magnus’ audio, his own spike panel sliding open so his spike could pressurize against the bound mech’s backstrut, smearing pre-transfluid over the normally pristine plating. “No moving, Magnus. If you move, I might just have to leave you like this.” The scientist purred, giving a sharp thrust of his digits to emphasize, relishing the barely-withheld howl that emitted from Magnus’ intake.

 

Magnus squirmed desperately over the servo, fighting the need to move, to ride those digits to completion, when they were suddenly gone. The bound mech let out a keen at the loss, struggling to see Perceptor, valve leaking profusely so that the lilac lubricants streamed from his valve to stain his inner thighs. 

 

“I’m so disappointed, pet.” Perceptor murmured, the scientist’s digits grasping Magnus’ chin and tilting his helm up and to the side so they could lock optics. “I give you pleasure and you still can’t obey a simple order?” The blue optics were disappointed, and Magnus so desperately wished he could speak, could  _ beg _ Perceptor for mercy. 

 

Perceptor smirked at the desperate need in the nearly-white optics, humming softly. “Well, I do suppose it is your first time…” The scientist shook his helm before releasing Magnus’ faceplates and putting steady pressure on his shoulders, guiding him so his upper body lay against the ground, while his aft remained in the air.

 

Flushing in embarrassment at the new position, Magnus whined but held still. If he disappointed Perceptor  _ too much _ there was no telling what he’d do!

 

Digits were at his valve again, and Ultra Magnus let out a chuff of air in excitement, holding still as something pressed against his anterior node.

 

Silence fell and there was no further movement, Magnus attempting to lift himself to look behind him when the object against his node buzzed to life, the enforcer letting out a shout of pleasure as his arousal skyrocketed, the big mech writhing in his futile attempt to lie still.  _ Please! Oh pleasepleasepleasepleaseplease!! _ Magnus inwardly pleaded, hips bucking upwards.

 

A coil of heat in his lower abdomen had Magnus desperate. He was going to overload! He was so slagging  _ close _ !! 

 

Perceptor hummed softly as he pressed the heel of his palm against the vibrating disk magnetized to the squirming mech’s node, enjoying the muffled shout that accompanied the increased pressure. “So needy.” The scientist whispered, moving closer to the bigger mech, servos carressing hip plates and sneaking between them to fondle the wiring below.

 

Magnus could only moan helplessly at the ministrations laid upon his shaking frame, hips bucking when Perceptor’s spike ran over his valve lips, whining. 

 

Smirking at the obvious need of the usually aloof mech, Perceptor guided the tip of his spike to Magnus’ valve, running up and down the outer lips before pressing it between the clenching walls. With a single snap of his hips, the scientist hilted himself in the spasming valve.

 

Pleasure exploded at the sudden penetration, Magnus’ mouth opening in a silent shout as pleasure tore through his lines, overload slamming over him before he even realized it.

 

As the pleasure faded, Magnus moaned, rocking his hips but stilling with Perceptor’s tight grip, the scientist letting out a soft  _ tsk _ . “Overloading already?” Perceptor questioned with that maddening accent, leaning forward to drape his weight over the bigger mech’s backstrut, enjoying the way Magnus’ hips jerked and bucked with the continuing buzz of his node, rebuilding his charge.

 

Magnus felt overwhelmed as Perceptor carressed his hip plates and began to slowly thrust, ending each inward push with a grind, the tip of his spike pressing insistently against his ceiling node, drawing a muffled cry each time.

 

“Had I known - _uhn!_ You were so- _hmn!_ _Needy!_ ” Perceptor groaned at the wonderful sensation of Magnus’ valve squeezing around him, trying to suck him in further. “I would’ve _indulged_ you-ah!- _sooner_!” The scientist growled, hips moving at a faster pace now.

 

Rolling into the thrusts, Magnus relaxed against the floor, loving every moment of his own submission. Of letting go of control. The constant thrusts drew his charge back up rapidly, drawing the Magnus up towards a second overload, that skilled servo back on his spike, the ring disengaging.

 

Perceptor chuckled at the muffled scream from his bound partner, squeezing and giving a light jerk to the hot metal in his servo, so hard he could feel the pulsations beneath the protoflesh. “Overload pet.” The scientist whispered, licking Magnus’ audio as he thrust in hard, grinding against the enforcer’s ceiling node to send liquid fire through his veins, overloading him again.

 

Screaming out his pleasure, writhing beneath the scientist, Magnus rode out his overload, a tremor passing through his frame as the last of the charge disippated. He jumped in surprise at the first spurt of transfluid, moaning as Perceptor filled him with his seed, pulling the vibrating disk away from his node, depressurizing spike slipping out so the final stream of sticky fluids landed on Magnus’ upturned aft.

 

Smirking, Perceptor smeared the transfluid over Ultra Magnus’ aft and valve lips, leaning over the mech to place another kiss to his lip components, servos gently working the gag free from between the bigger mech’s denta. “Satisfactory?” He purred.

 

Magnus groaned as the ring was pulled free of his denta, staring at Perceptor dazedly, only able to nod in response, earning himself a chuckle and an “I’ll take that as a yes”.

  
It was  _ so good _ . Magnus shuddered as Perceptor stood and pulled him back up onto his knee joints. He would have to thank Drift… And perhaps ask Perceptor if the scientist would be up to a repeat.

**Author's Note:**

> I'll try to read through it again another time to re-write everything and make it better.


End file.
